The booth had a large sign above it, in bold letters proclaiming "Get a kiss from HARRY POTTER for 1 sickle!"

"Really, Hermione, I think a kiss from me is worth more than that," Harry had joked, upon seeing the cost. Her only response had been to roll her eyes. "Make it five at least."

"We'll just see how it goes," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching.

The other members participating in the fund-raiser had chosen much more innocent endeavours like selling baked goods or artwork or other services that did not involve the meeting of body parts. At least Harry assumed they didn't. Hermione was staffing a booth for her latest campaign to promote rights for fairies. Harry thought this campaign, maybe, would be successful. It had a good acronym, anyway.

Even though Hermione had told him way back when in sixth year that he was a "fanciable enough bloke", he still didn't really see it. He had spent enough time looking at his reflection in the mirror to know that he had an unruly mop of jet black hair (girls like it messy, Hermione had quipped), his glasses were ugly and annoying (yes, but now that he'd replaced his unfashionable round ones with square lenses, it was much better, Hermione had told him), his face was too long (okay, she said, now he was just being silly). Yes, he could admit that, since the war, he had filled out a bit, losing that malnourished and stunted look of his youth. Mostly he just thought people would pay for a kiss from the great Harry Potter, not Harry. She had just rolled her eyes and scoffed. Ron had had nothing to say on anything, his only reaction to look a bit uncomfortable.

"What, you don't want a kiss from me, Ron?" Harry had said in a mock pout. He laughed out loud when his friend turned red in the face and spluttered.

The booth had barely been active for five minutes before Harry had made twelve sickles, and kissed half the females in the Auror department. His face felt hot from the embarrassment (or maybe he was just sunburned). When Alice, an Auror easily twice Harry's age, had come up to the booth, Harry had been mortified.

She had slapped a sickle down in front of him, giving him a wink. "Hey Harry! Fancy a smooch?"

"Oh God," Harry mumbled, hands covering his face. Somewhere in the distance he heard Ron snigger and hated him slightly for it. Oh I am so getting him back for this. Hermione too. This is all her fault.

Harry decided to go temporarily blind in his peripherals, ignoring the sniggers and darting glances of the people at the event. If I see Rita Skeeter here I swear to God –

"Don't keep a friend waiting, now Harry!" Alice quipped, snapping Harry back to reality.

Harry sighed and leaned across the little table, presenting his face to her. She smirked and gave him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, thankfully. She broke away and gave him another wink. "Thanks mate! Now, where's that husband of mine?" She flitted away, revealing the next person in line. Another lady, and very pretty, Harry could see. Smiling, Harry was just waving her forward when another person, definitely not a lady, shot in front of her.

Well shit.

Shit shit shitty shit.

Harry's stomach did a funny little turn and he cursed the wizard Gods or whoever the hell had been responsible for this. Seriously.

"Potter," came the drawling voice.

"Hey!" the girl said, indignant.

"M-Malfoy!" Harry choked out, unfortunately drawing the attention of his immediate neighbours. "You – you can't just – butt in like that!" Damn it, you can't be here at ALL, you bloody wanker!

Draco smirked and leaned one elbow on the table, meeting Harry's eyes. "Well I just did, so get over it." He turned to the affronted girl behind him and winked at her. "If the lady doesn't mind," he added, polite as he could.

The woman blushed, blinked with wide eyes and then shrugged. "I guess not, only if you get on with it."

Harry felt betrayed by this woman he didn't know the name of. "Well thanks a lot," he grumbled.

Draco laughed. "Oh I like her. Well Potter, best not to keep a costumer waiting, yes?"

"You are a not a costumer," Harry said through gritted teeth. And damnit, the longer Malfoy stood at his booth, the more people were looking and now there was even a crowd gathering. He needed to get rid of the blonde man, before Skeeter arrived and took incriminating photographs.

Draco leaned in further, smirk growing wider, fluttering his eyelids in what he probably hoped was a seductive manner. Harry tried to tell himself it had no impact.

A few years back, the two alumni had awkwardly agreed to end their Hogwarts rivalry, calling a truce. For a while Harry had been relieved at not having to interact much with the potions-affiliated Auror. Their departments were completely different, and thus there was really no need for their paths to cross often. Despite all of this, the ex-Slytherin had somehow managed to track down Harry every other day, sometimes every day, to spark a witty banter session that often left Harry fuming. Oh how Harry missed the days of a simple banter session with the man. These days, for the past month in fact, the annoying banter had turned into shameless flirting. Worse was that Harry had no idea if the blond man was serious; if he was serious and was actually attracted to Harry like that… well then Harry would actually maybe kind of sort of consider giving it a shot. The man was very fit, after all. But if all the flirting was simply another way for the Slytherin to one-up Harry then the Gryffindor would power on and never talk to the man again.

But now said man was here, at his stupid kissing booth, leaning all of his sexiness up in Harry's personal space, demanding a kiss. Harry would just have to keep himself from reacting. At all.

"How many kisses will a galleon buy me?" Draco mused aloud, eyebrow raised and smirk in place.

"Er, seventeen, obviously," Harry replied dryly.

"I'll chip in another galleon to see this!" The lady behind Draco chirped.

Harry leaned around Draco to glare at the woman. The few people in the queue behind her shouted their agreements, offering up sickles and knuts. Harry felt his face heat up, feeling embarrassed and betrayed by his fellow comrades.

"I'll chip a few knuts in," came a familiar voice from Harry's right.

"Oh no, not you too, Ron!" Harry groaned. His best friend, how could he?!

"Good show, Weasley!" Draco smiled.

Ron winked at Draco and Harry was forcefully reminded of how far their social dynamics had really come since their Hogwarts days. He would appreciate it all later, right now he was sticking to glaring heatedly at Ron.

"Sorry mate," Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. In his blue eyes was the message "You aren't fooling anyone. Just kiss the fool and you two can live happily ever after."

And really, by waiting for so long and making such a scene about it all, Harry had really dug himself in deeper. There was now quite a sizeable crowd gathering at the HP Kissing booth, certainly some members of the press embedded within it.

"Seriously?" Harry muttered to Draco.

Draco's smirk blended into a real, genuine smile, one that Harry had never seen before, had never felt before. That smile could break a heart. The blonde gave a small nod of his head, his eyes boring into Harry's.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Harry took off his glasses. He hadn't done that for any of the previous "costumers". If he was going to kiss his secret crush then by God he was going to do it properly and give the Wizarding World Press enough front page material to last a long time.

Harry breathed deeply and then leaned forward, closing the gap between their mouths. It was a tender kiss, Malfoy's lips warm and pliable beneath his. It was perfect, and ended far too soon.

Both men separated and, Harry's heart leapt into his stomach at the smile sitting on Draco's lips. This was no joke. Harry returned the smile, feeling like a sappy fool. He would have to buy Hermione a drink.